


The Disc Spins On

by centreoftheselights



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: GNU Terry Pratchett, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shiver runs through the Discworld.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Disc Spins On

Tiffany Aching is on her way to bring Mrs Altworthy her medicine when she realises there is something quite urgent she must do. She delivers the medicine first, of course – any task worth doing will understand why it has to wait until after that.

Then she goes home, pulls a chair up close to the bed, lights a candle, and gets out a book to read. She is not going to sleep tonight, she knows. There is a watch to keep. Something is owed tonight, and it is the witches’ duty to pay the debt.

In Lancre, Granny Weatherwax is doing much the same, with You curled up asleep on one foot. Nanny Ogg opens her best bottle of whiskey, pours half of it out onto the roots of the tree in the garden, and drinks the rest. Magrat Garlick tells Verence there is something she has to do, and goes up to the moors to dance through the night and recite solemn poetry.

Across the Disc, keldas tell their clans that tonight is a night for drinking and feasting and singing of songs. In Ankh-Morpork, Archchancellor Ridcully of the Unseen University declares much the same. Ponder Stibbons doesn’t say a word about the cost, but only asks if he should get out the black banners they use for wakes.

The Archchancellor pauses for a second.

“No, I don’t think that’s right at all. Find something more colourful.”

In a modest flat on the other side of the city, Susan Sto Helit sets aside her syllabus-dictated lesson plan about “i before e except after c” and decides that tomorrow, her young students will learn about the importance of stories, and the wonder of writing their own. Now is a time to be creative, and so she makes no notes, but rather puts on her coat and heads down to Biers, where the crowd is more lively than she’s ever seen them before.

Those without magic don’t feel it so keenly, but there’s still... something.

Beside a campfire in a muddy field in Borogravia, Sergeant Polly Perks leans her head against Maladict’s shoulder and smiles.

In a nursery in Ankh Morpork, Moist von Lipwig cradles his fussing newborn, and sings a quiet lullaby to drown out the sounds of Adora Belle’s chainsaw snoring.

In the Patrician’s Palace, Vetinari takes a walk on the balcony at dusk, looks out on the bustling city below, and nods to himself, so slightly that no-one else would see it.

And in a grand house on Scoone Avenue, His Grace His Excellency The Duke of Ankh Commander Sir Samuel Vimes kisses Young Sam on the forehead, tucks him in and walks downstairs to the fire, where Sybil is darning socks. He thinks to himself, _Well, this is alright then_ , but only because even in his own mind he doesn’t quite have the words to think _There was a time I never knew I could wind up this happy, and now look at me_.

Meanwhile, in a neighbouring dimension, there is a knock at the door.

“COME IN.”

The towering black door opens to reveal a smiling face underneath a broad black hat.

“Hello!” The visitor says. “Well, this isn’t quite what I was expecting.”

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU WILL BE STAYING LONG,” Death tells him, shaking his hand, “BUT YOU ARE ALWAYS WELCOME IN MY HOME. MAY I OFFER YOU A REFRESHMENT?”

A chirp comes from ankle level, and the visitor looks down to find a tabby cat winding its way around his ankles.

“A cup of tea would do nicely,” he says. “And then I suppose I’d best be getting on my way.”

“AT LAST WE MUST WALK TOGETHER,” Death agrees. “OR IS IT SIMPLY FOR THE LAST TIME?”

The visitor considers it. “Perhaps both.”

Death nods gravely. “WE MAY DISCUSS THE MATTER FURTHER WHILE THE KETTLE BOILS.”

And the Disc spins on.


End file.
